


The Audacity of Memory

by misbegotten



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-21
Updated: 2016-10-21
Packaged: 2018-08-23 19:00:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8339089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misbegotten/pseuds/misbegotten
Summary: Robbie catalogues the little things, holds them close.





	

If Robbie's tenure as a copper has taught him anything, it's that love is fleeting. Children hate parents. Lovers turn on lovers. A car, a dull thud, and love is extinguished in a heartbeat.

Maybe that's why he cherishes, catalogues little memories. For the day when memories are all he has. Such as the first time he bottomed out, balls to arse deep in nothing but James, and James' strained, contented sigh (more, James said, and Robbie thought he might die). Or the smell of James fresh out of the shower after a swim, the sharp sting of chlorine still lingering on his towel. The look of James' tie draped over the bedpost, a cheek-flushing reminder of the games to which it got up the night before. Robbie has never considered himself _kinky_ , but James does look a right treat with pale skin bound in a waiting package, flushed and whimpering slightly as his erect cock begs for more attention. 

Someday, James will realise the mistake he's made tying himself (flushing again) to an old man. And Robbie will have naught but memories to comfort him in the twilight of his days.

As if guessing the tenor of his thoughts (the canny lad does that with disturbing accuracy), James threads his fingers through Robbie's and pulls him in for a kiss. Open-mouthed, tongue swiping inside Robbie's as if to lay claim, in front of God and all witnesses, damn his impudent youth. And yet Robbie has never felt more proud, more loved. Never wanted more to push the lad up against a parked car and have his way with him right there, without giving a toss to public indecency charges or the mess (James is a terrible influence, all fussy and manners during the day and nothing but wanton disregard for the state of Robbie's trousers at night).

"You're stuck with me, you know," James murmurs against his lips. He draws back, regards Robbie in the half-light of a street lamp and smiles. 

Aye, Robbie thinks. Maybe he is. But this is another slot filled in his memory chip. May it overflow forever, amen.


End file.
